White Fields
by Konstantinsen
Summary: Temperatures drop. The sun disappears. General Winter has arisen. And the world struggles to combat the threat he poses.
1. Prologue

**NOTE: This is a short intro to a big story that I'm planning. Comments and corrections are greatly appreciated. (I don't want to insult or make a wrong impression of the countries here so I'm really cautious... and paranoid.)  
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* * *

><p>The wind started to pick up. Belarus read the atmosphere and let go of Russia's arm.<p>

"It seems that General Winter has come early," the taller nation casually remarked.

"_Too_ early," Belarus hissed.

The lush vast fields beyond their house began to pale as the dark grey clouds loomed overhead. In the distance, the two nations could pick out the season's personification marching towards them.

Russia's smile vanished. Grabbing Belarus' arm, much to her surprise, he whispered a few quick orders into her ear.

"But Big Brother—"

"Go, now!"

Belarus did as she was told. Back inside, she was quick to bolt the doors and shut the windows. Lithuania, who was less fearful of the obsessive nation, took his place beside her. Her cruelty to him seemed to have lessened.

"Is Mr. Russia coming inside?"

"_Nyama_."

He took the signal. In less than a minute, the Baltic Trio was busy with the winter preparations. _General Winter is early today._

Belarus kept her finger between the two curtains, keeping her eyes on the view outside. _What! It's already snowing?_

"Take care of yourself Big Brother…" she whispered.

Russia stood there. General Winter drew his blade. Her eyes widened. She made for the door handles despite Lithuania's instinctive restraint.

"Big Brother Russia!"

And the blizzard came.


	2. Chapter 1: The Scourge of Winter

It all began when the climate changed. Everyone at the G8 thought less of it. Russia, however, knew the dangers this would pose. Only he knew how badly things would turn out if the other nations did not think critically of the matter. Even Germany, whose rigor surpassed those of others, had little concern in the shifting weathers.

As America, Britain, and France bickered on a suitable course of action, Italy tapped Germany on the shoulder earning him an irritating inquest.

He simply pointed to the empty chair in Russia's spot. From frustration to bewilderment, he wondered why the tall nation had not attended the meeting. He gestured at Japan who also nodded in agreement.

"What's with you always being the hero!"

"Well, as you can see, I got the best army in the world!"

"You both need to be more fashionable. Even a soldier needs to look good on the battlefield!"

"And risk getting shot like a sore thumb!" America and Britain hollered in unison.

Germany's hand came down hard on the table. All eyes were now on him. "Listen up, _dummkopfen_! Russia's not in attendance today. Although it may not be of interest to any of you, the fact that our current problem has roots in his territory makes the lack of his presence suspicious. Now, do you think Russia has something to do with this?"

There was a moment of silence before the seriousness of Ludwig's statement sunk in on everyone. Britain let go of America's collar.

"Well, he does have a point. Russia didn't even bother to notify us if he was coming or not."

"Hah! I knew that," America boasted.

"Then why did you not tell us he was coming?" France demanded.

"Oh, come on! Let go of it, already. The Cold War's over," Britain heckled. "Russia's going to take over soon enough, anyway," he added softly enjoying America's sudden glare on him.

"Perhaps we should inform him and ask why he is not in attendance today," suggested Japan. He was not ignored. The other states jumped onto the idea and began fighting over who would take up the task. Japan declined the offer and Italy had shared a great fear of the tall country. So the task fell upon Germany much to his chagrin.

He dialed in the number. There was a series of rings before the automatic voice took over.

"Strange, he's not picking up the phone."

"I knew it!" America beamed. "I knew he was up to something! I'm going to shove it all your faces when I'm going to uncover his master plan."

"Um, America… what are you talking about?"

"Come on, Britain! My CIA guys know everything about Russia."

Britain's palm met his face. "You are completely paranoid."

The doors swung open as a tattered country leaned against the door frame panting and covered in sweat. Everyone recognized her immediately. After they took one good look at her chest first though.

"Russia needs your help," she let out with wide gasps. "His house was besieged and he could not defend himself!"

There was a chorus of 'what's as the nations grasped Ukraine's news. For the first time in a long time, America felt sudden concern for his rival.

"Then, let's go!" Germany declared as he rushed to catch her from her collapse. What surprised him was her temperature—she was extremely cold. Other surprises came from the cuts all around her body.

"Germany?" It was Italy. He was trembling. "What's going on?"

"Something's happened and it's about Russia," Britain answered.

America couldn't talk. He didn't know what to do. Russia had been his undeclared enemy for quite some time. Intimidation was the closest they could get to ripping at each other's throats. But seeing the current physical state of Ukraine, he knew that something had happened and it either harmed the large nation or made him psychologically worse to the point that he snapped and did the damage himself.

"Russia may make me uneasy but he is one of us," France remarked rushing outside the door. He was followed by Britain. China and Japan followed suit. Germany chased after them, carrying an unconscious Ukraine in his arms. As usual, Italy was the last, running after his closest ally like a dog yanked by a chain.

Meanwhile, in the dark corner of the room, an apparition appeared. "We should go."

"CRAP! Why's there a mirror talking to me?"

"It's me, Canada!"

"Oh, sorry…"

"We should go."

"Right."

Kumajiro tugged at Canada's sleeve. "I'm hungry."

* * *

><p>The manor was a disaster. In the midst of a tormenting blizzard, the nations of the G8 rushed to the open doorway. The doors themselves were held in place by the heavy layer of snow that formed around the mansion as well as the porch. And they thought the antechamber was in bad enough shape.<p>

What shocked them was the fact that the interior of the establishment—most especially the main hall—was literally falling apart. Curtains were ripped, the furniture was scattered, potteries were smashed, a layer of snow blanketed the once clean floor of the Russia's residence, and the walls were painted with blood and etched with scratches. The walls were heavily battered to the point that there were massive gaping holes.

"What the hell happened here?" Germany asked under his breath.

The formal suits the nations wore did not protect them from the bitter cold of the blizzard that seemed to replace the mansion's inhabitants who were scattered around the large room. They never expected the cold weather to set in quickly at this time of year.

"Look!" Britain pointed to two figures half-buried in the snow. Already, he and France were over them.

"It's Russia. And he's in bad shape," Francis announced.

"So is Belarus."

Russia lay flat in the snow, his body a bleeding and semi-frozen mess. His head rested on the laps of Belarus who was also semi-frozen having collapsed from the harsh temperatures and whatever had exhausted her strength.

"The others are alright!" China hollered. Japan inspected Estonia's wounds. Latvia had formed an acute angle over the edge of a topple table. Lithuania was slumped on the wall near the fireplace.

Germany stood by the antechamber, carrying Ukraine in his arms. Behind him, Italy began to cower from both the cold and the sudden dread that occupied the atmosphere. Beside them, America stared into the battleground where Russia and his whole household had fought off an extremely powerful foe.

Despite declaring himself the hero on multiple occasions and always bickering with Russia over who was more dominant during the Cold War, he was never prepared for this kind of scenery. He didn't even know whether to help out or add insult to injury. Russia was down together with his two sisters and his three subordinates. America didn't know what to do.

"America," Germany called. He did not illicit a response.

"America!" Italy tapped America's shoulder.

"Huh?"

"America. You seem off," Germany remarked.

"Uh, right. It's just… I…"

"Come on, America! You're still friends with Russia, right?" Italy asked hopefully.

"Y-yeah… but… I…"

He couldn't find the words to follow with it. Russia was mainly an adversary but still a rare buddy. They worked together usually against a common foe. America didn't know who knocked the tall nation down and out—rebels or aliens, he didn't really know.

"There weren't many news reports coming from Russia as of late and none of them suggested some sort of internal squabbling," Britain observed.

"Not to mention the fact that Russia had no major enemies on the outside as well," France added.

Unless…

Everyone narrowed their eyes on America. "Huh? Why are you guys looking at me like that?"

They cornered him. He raised his arms.

"Guys, I'm serious! I didn't do anything!"

"Right."

"Britain, you got to believe me."

"You still send your CIA pests into my territories," China reminded. Japan's hand was on his blade.

"Hey! Isn't it you used to loathe Russia back then?" Italy asked absent-mindedly.

That pinned him. "Look… uh… it wasn't… this isn't… come on, guys!" America backed into the antechamber. "I didn't do anything! Promise! Really!"

He was now literally cornered. From the looks of it, almost everybody wanted to pounce. He was about to ball his fists when Ukraine spoke.

"It wasn't… America. It was…"

"Me." The voice was otherworldly and sent a chill down their spines.

Not far off in the distance, a figure emerged. It looked as though he had materialized from the snow. But the gray shape began walking towards them. America stood in the antechamber, Germany, Ukraine, and Italy behind him. Britain, France, China, and Japan eased by the entrance to the main hall.

The mysterious stranger stopped twenty meters away from the porch. His battle-worn cloak flew in the wind showing the ripped edges that war had constantly left. A streak of light glistened off his hand making Japan draw his blade.

The man smirked and let out an ethereal laugh that echoed all around them. It was enough to raise the hairs on Italy's back, making him hide behind France whose face was solemn and stance adamant.

"Who are you?" Britain demanded.

"General Winter…" Ukraine replied, trembling and succumbing once more to the darkness.

"I knew it," Francis whispered.

"You know him?" Britain asked.

"Napoloen's campaign."

"A disastrous campaign," Germany echoed. "no different from Operation Barbarossa."

America could feel the General smirk once more.

Italy started to panic. "What's going on? Who is that guy, Germany?"

General Winter turned around and disappeared into the distance. Dead air followed.

"Whoever you are and whatever it is you've started, you're not going to win!" America declared.

A dark chuckle was his reply.


	3. Chapter 2: It's Plausible

"Hey, West! How was the meeting?" Prussia asked, a half-empty mug in his hand.

Germany tossed him a look that made the former Teutonic Knight stand from his bar stool. Things were going to get ugly. And it was going to be probably much worse than when the Pictonians invaded.

"What is it?"

"Russia's down—"

Prussia leaped into song and dance. The celebration annoyed Germany.

"—and it's General Winter."

Gilbert stopped midway and lost his footing on the bar stool. "What?" he managed getting up. His uniform was stained with beer.

"General Winter. He's back."

Silence. Just tense silence.

"_Verdammt_." It all came crashing down on him. Prussia should've known that fighting on a frozen lake was a bad idea. Well, he was too awesome for other ideas back then, right? Besides, that was over seven hundred years ago. He's more awesome now. "What did he say?"

"I didn't hear. He just appeared outside Russia's house."

"You went to Russia's house?" Germany took his place beside his brother.

"_Ja_. There was snow inside and out. Everyone living there, including Russia, were half-frozen."

Germany lifted a palm to his face and bowed as Gilbert kicked off another show. He was very irritated the way his older brother hated the tall nation. Well, he wasn't old enough to remember their conflicts, right? He wasn't even around yet until the time of Napoleon.

He raised a finger and a mug slid into his hand. Now he could think. It was during these times that he could think deeper than he usually did. Savoring the taste, he let his mind reel off. What is going on? What happened to Russia? And Belarus, Ukraine, and the Baltic Trio? Did General Winter do this? What does he want?

It was rather complicated. No matter how modern they were, it would be difficult to counter the power of Mother Nature. Ironically, their progress into modernity was what made the world worse as it environmentally was. Then it clicked.

Germany's eyes snapped open and he yanked Prussia from the stage.

"Hey! What gives? I was in the middle of a really good so—"

He cut him off discreetly. Gilbert's eyes widened and he cast a look of shock on his younger brother's face. The expression Germany gave him was not what he was hoping for.

"This is no joke, _bruder_."

"Damn! We should muster up then."

"Tell everyone in Central Europe and that includes Austria."

"What about the others?"

"Not yet. I still have to find some solid ground first."

Prussia grunted. They continued in whispers to avoid causing a panic among the other patrons of the bar; it was a German pub after all. Germany left immediately as Prussia opened the directory and began dialing the numbers.

* * *

><p>America sat alone in his living room. No fast food. No sweets. Nothing but coffee and his hands clasped under his chin. This was a behavior that manifested during extremely serious moments. His boss was bothered by what he had reported. But he, himself, was more disturbed than his citizens.<p>

"What is going on? Who is this General Winter guy?" he asked quietly. "Why am I so concerned about Russia, anyway?" _Damn it, America! Why did you get so serious about this in the first place?_

He was his arch-nemesis globally, mentally, politically, ideologically, militarily, and culturally. Yet he felt compelled to help him out. They were allies back then but that was only when they were fighting against the Axis. But there was always the tension. The Cold War just made things worse.

He had to admit Russia was a badass. And he qualified as a badass villain in a movie where he was the hero. So why was he so worried about him?

"Sir, you're coffee's ready."

America looked up at the agent. He nodded. "Thanks. I'll go get it myself."

"Anything else, sir?"

"No. That's alright. Everything's good. You can go back to your job now."

The agent cleared his throat. "Sir, this _is_ my job. Technically speaking."

America sipped at his coffee, still in deep thought. "There is one thing."

"Yes, sir?"

"Could you get me a copy of the intel reps on the recent weather climates in Russia? Yeah, and the current state as well."

"Will do, sir." By the time the door closed, America readied his pen and paper.

"Every hero needs a villain to fight." It was a less-thought-of statement that left his mouth. _Yeah, that's it. Every hero needs a villain to fight._

* * *

><p>"So, are my siblings going to be okay?" Ukraine asked. Her head and various portions of her arms and legs were wrapped in gauze.<p>

"We're doing our best. Russia and Belarus would remain comatose for quite some time. Lithuania, Latvia, and Estonia, however, are recuperating rather quickly and will be out in a few hours."

"Oh, thank you, doctor!" Tears of joy welled up her eyes. She turned to the other two nations. She received several thumbs ups and uneasy smiles.

"At least Russia wouldn't be terrorizing us for a while," Britain sighed.

France took Ukraine's arms with the grace of one skilled in his craft. "So, Ukraine _cherie_, would you tell us what happened?"

"Oh, it was terrible! It was absolutely terrible!" She began to sob. The aura was awkward for Britain.

"Right. Any details, perhaps?"

"Oh, Britain." Britain rolled his eyes. _Terrific. Now he's gone Casanova on me._ "You are so direct. Why not allow her time, _ma chère Britagne_?"

_Oh, shut up!_ Britain sighed. "Uh, France, why don't you extract the information."

Francis gave his accomplice his notorious smile. His charm did the rest.

* * *

><p>"How did it go?"<p>

"Based on the information gleaned from _Mademoiselle _Ukraine…" All eyes turned to France. He shrugged. "As I was saying, _Mademoiselle_ Ukraine remembers responding to an emergency call by Russia only to find the mansion in ruins. She said she saw General Winter and some of his 'troops' strolling around the interior. It was possible that she entered into a struggle because that was where her memory permitted her."

China raised a brow. "What do you mean by troops?"

"She could not identify."

There was a deep silence in the conference room. This was followed by Germany clearing his throat and beginning his round of suspicions. Including his hypothesis. It took eight minutes.

"You can't be serious!" Britain demanded, rising from his seat.

"It is just a theory, right?" France asked.

"_Ja_. But it is very plausible," Germany clarified, rubbing his chin.

"Germany," Italy poked, "you got to be joking, right? Please tell me, you're joking. After all, you said that it's just a theory—"

"—that is definitely possible." All eyes turned to America. For the first time, the blabbermouth had been as silent as a lamb since seeing what happened to Russia. This made Britain worry as he had grown heavily accustomed to America's shenanigans.

"Winter is just a season," China intervened, "but I rarely thought of it as much of an enemy." Japan nodded in agreement.

"I still have to present this to my boss," Germany remarked. "He would be wondering why my research teams are looking at a different agenda."

"Hold on, now! We need a full confirmation on your part." Britain received Germany's look passively. "But still," he sighed, "I'll get MI6 on the job as well."

"_Oui_. I shall commission my directorates on these matters, too."

"What about you guys?"

"Mongolia is not responding so I've made some precautionary measures in advance."

"I have been made of this only now so I will be making preparations after we discuss it with my leaders."

"Combating weather is becoming quite difficult," China remarked. "Japan's right. Our leaders would be questioning why our focuses are on the upcoming winter season."

"You probably haven't encountered General Winter in full force, have you?" France began. He spoke in his rarest but sincerest tone. Even Britain felt ordered to listen. "Russia is terrifying just being himself but if General Winter is with him, it is much worse. I'm telling you: if General Winter alone was capable of defeating Russia and everyone else with him, what could? I have faced both foes under Napoleon and it was _devastating_. Germany, I'm sure you know what I am talking about."

The country nodded. "We won at first, but then the season changed and Russia had us by our throats."

America raised his hand. "Hold on a sec! Winter comes every year so it's pretty normal for Russia to get his ass kicked by that creepy-coated guy. What gives?"

"It means that you all overlooked our current situation," admonished Germany. "You were too busy bickering over what to do that you didn't even think to consider what the problem really was!"

"Ve~ we're having a global cool-up!"

"Of course!" Britain smacked his palm. "The sudden change in the climate is causing winter seasons to last longer. But it would be absurd for General Winter to go full-force against the one he's so accustomed to… unless…"

"_Merde_! General Winter is embarking on his own campaign!"

"A winter apocalypse," America echoed. "Cool!"

"A second ice-age."

Everyone's hairs went up. "Who said that!" To them, Canada had just materialized out of nowhere.

"It's me, Canada!"

"Oh," America sighed. "What do you mean, dude?"

"A second ice-age. It's where the world would freeze over like a Popsicle."

The room was in total silence.

"Well, that was bone-chilling. How about some pasta, everyone?" Italy was met with uninterested eyes. He shrunk. "Okay… maybe later."

The door burst open. _Again?_ It was Denmark.

"Germany! There's something wrong with Finland, Sweden, and Norway."

"What do you mean?"

"They're not holding out against the winter season!"

"_Scheisse!_" Germany rushed out of the room with Denmark. "Winter season is too early!" Everyone was at their feet, seemingly shaken by the recent news. Italy, as usual, ran after them rather noisily.

"Is it me or does anyone feel that General Winter's attacking the Nordic states?"

America clenched his fist. "Well, if Germany's right, then we're going to have to move up and see this for ourselves. Let's go!"

It didn't take long for the G8 nations—including Canada—to arrive at the southern edge of Norway. From where they were, nothing could have proven Germany's theory all the more.


	4. Chapter 3: Trouble Up North  Part 1

"I'm not playing around here, _verdammt_!" Despite Prussia's insistence, none of the countries whom he had "invited" to the bar would believe him. "I'm telling you, Germany told me this." _Wait. That didn't come out right._

"Right," Austria huffed, his brow raised and his arms crossed. "Unless Germany would come over and say it himself, I would lend credibility to what you're saying." Everyone seemed to agree with the aristocrat. Beside him were Hungary, Greece, and Poland. Adjacent to them were Turkey, Switzerland, and Liechtenstein.

"Are you saying I'm a liar!" Prussia snapped.

"What Austria's saying is that we're not really that trustworthy of you yet," the former mercenary clarified.

"Come on, Switzerland! That whole thing between us was way back, right?"

"Come, Liechtenstein, let's go."

"But, brother—"

"Hey, everyone, look at this!" Poland called. All eyes turned to the television set mounted just below the ceiling above the bar. It was to some degree unnerving. News from Norway. From the Nordic states. From Eastern Europe. And from the heart of Russia. The same news all throughout.

The report was broadcast for around thirty minutes. After that, Prussia beamed with pride. Seeing the look on everyone's faces—especially Austria's—made him want to gloat. He was about to open his mouth when Hungary broke the silence. That pissed him off a bit.

"'General Winter'?"

"It may seem that way," Austria assured her. "Russian winters are terrible. But I didn't know the weather in the Baltic regions would be just as bad."

"That's because they aren't."

All eyes returned to the annoying Gilbert who was now smirking and resting his right leg on top of the bar. Hungary wanted to hit him with her frying pan but they were all in the wrong. She just didn't want him to say, "I told you so." Which he actually did. In a prolonged egotistical manner.

"So what do we do now?" Greece asked for the first time. At least he didn't doze off like he usually did.

"We…" Prussia said with his finger raised. The sounds the later escaped his mouth were "uh", "uhm", and "er" much to everyone's chagrin. Now Hungary had a reason to hit him. The frying pan was about to be raised when the doors swung open to welcome a screeching Italy who crashed into the hall. He had been (_retreating_) darting at amazing speeds.

Hungary helped him up. "Italy, what happened to you?" His temperature startled her. "And why are you so cold?"

"I-it's G-g-german-ny… h-he's in b-big t-t-trouble…"

"West!" Prussia demanded, hopping off the bar. "What happened?"

"G-g-general W-winter… h-he at-tacked Nor-w-way…"

"Italy's drastically cold," Hungary warned. "We need to get him warm!"

"Over here!" Greece beckoned. Austria lit the fireplace as Turkey and Poland carried a shivering Italy over to couch in front of it. Hungary was quick to prepare a basin of hot water and plunged Italy's feet deep into it. Greece covered him in a thick blanket, allowing one of his cats rest on the country's lap.

"There, there, now. Feel better?"

"Y-yes, Miss Hungary."

"Now, Italy, tell us clearly what happened."

Before Italy could finish his tale, Prussia was off to Norway clad in his winter uniform and armed with the best weapons in the German arsenal. Only Hungary had noticed his sudden departure. And, strangely enough, it worried her.

* * *

><p><em>He did not see them die. He did not hear them die. He only heard the report. At first, he refused to believe. When they were not looking, he snuck a peak.<em>

_ He wanted to kill the soldiers. Why did they have to do this? They can't force him! He's a country, after all. He made a move for the office knowing full well that the people responsible for the crime were in there. A strong hand held him back._

_ "If I don't go…"_

_ "Allow the changes," General Winter said in his deep-dark voice._

_ "But they did not have to die."_

_ "Time spares no man and they are of no exception."_

_ He threw a fist. It met nothing but the cold wind._

_ "They should not have died." He kept his smile plastered to his face but could not hide the tear that strolled down his cheek._

_ The door creaked open. Footsteps shuffled onto the concrete slabs now gathering a layer of snow._

_ "Russia, I am sorry we did not tell you immediately," a gruff but soft voice apologized._

_ He didn't know whether to believe him or not. He knew he (_they_) eyed him wearily. He knew they were afraid of him. But they knew that he couldn't touch them._

_ "Shall we have a stroll?"_

_ Russia looked up. General Winter nodded. The country sighed and turned to meet his superior. The man was not at all surprised by how red his nation's eyes were. "Russia—"_

_ "Why did they have to die?"_

Cold. "Big brother Russia?" Darkness.

_"The mud is hampering their progress."_

_ "_Spasiba_. I now have more time to prepare."_

_ "Make haste. _Rasputitsa _only hindered their advance but not their determination."_

_ "I know. That is why we are making preparations."_

_ General Winter smirked. "Only during these times," he echoed._

_ "_Da_. Only during these times, _tavarisch_"_

_ The wind blew strong against his back and he knew that the General had left to harass the betrayers of the non-aggression pact._

"Big brother Russia!"

The blur faded. Everything was clear. "Huh?"

"Oh, big brother Russia!"

Russia sat up. He smiled at Belarus—something he rarely does nowadays. "Hello there, Belarus."

"I'm glad you're okay!" Nataliya held his hand firmly in hers. It was clear that she forced her recovery so she could speed up his. Not that he knew how she was going to do it. "General Winter is going to pay for this," she hissed.

"_Da_. We will make sure of it." And he patted her on the head.

* * *

><p>"West!" Prussia called. "West!"<p>

The blizzard was intense. Regardless of the thickness and complexity of his winter uniform, it was rendered almost useless in this seemingly massive whiteout. He had greatly underestimated its strength.

"West!"

There was a devilish taunting that resonated all around him. That familiar voice made him shudder. For a moment, the ground beneath him turned into flat ice that started to crack. Prussia shook his head and found himself back in knee deep snow.

"West!"

The laughter came again. That dark voice rattled him.

"Show yourself, _sie hurensohn_! I know you're here!"

Suddenly, a shadow bellowed upon him catching him by surprise. Prussia stumbled backward, squeezing the trigger. The Gewehr let out several successive shots as the shadow vanished. Then the same menacing chuckle followed.

"Damn you… damn you!"

"Weapons cannot kill me," General Winter whispered. It was so close to his ear that Gilbert stumbled forward deeper into the snow. He trailed his gun upward but the personification of the blizzard had gone.

"Where's West?" he demanded. There was more laughter. "Stop laughing, _verdammt_!"

"Prussia!"

Gilbert struggled to his feet, pointing the rifle at the source of the sound.

"West?" he called out.

"_Ja_! It's me, Germany!"

Prussia breathed a sigh of relief as his younger brother pushed through the thickness of the whiteout.

"Come on! We have to get you to the shelter!"

"What?"

"A shelter! Everyone else is there. Now, let's go!"

The two brothers made their way through the storm, through snow that seemed to grow deeper, until they reached an area where a massive tree had fallen over.

"In there!" Germany pointed.

"The tree?"

"There's a bunker behind it, _dummkopf_!"

General Winter echoed his notorious chuckle which hastened the duo's entry into the underground shelter. As Germany closed the thick steel door, Prussia made his way to the artificial fire pit in the farthest wall of the small space. It was where most of the nations were warming themselves.

All turned their heads towards the visitor. Gilbert set his rifle by the door frame while introductions were given.

"Well, there's no question as to why he came over," Britain remarked, rubbing his hands to get some more warmth.

France eyed the Gewehr. "It is impossible to stop General Winter with just conventional weapons," he said.

"Would you stop putting us down?" Britain demanded, already irritated.

"I'm not! I'm just telling you solid facts about the enemy."

"Well at least say something that would help us—like how we can exploit his weakness!"

"I don't know everything, alright! Besides, you haven't had a battle with him just yet!"

"Would you two stop arguing?" China barked.

Germany made a head-count of everyone in the shelter. America, Britain, France, China, Japan, Prussia, Norway, Denmark, and him. Though he did feel another presence in the room. They were huddled by the pit, except Norway who sat in the corner mulling over how this had happened so quickly. Finland and Sweden were still missing.

Prussia turned back to his younger brother. "What's on your mind," he whispered.

"We still haven't formed a solid plan yet. Also, Norway said he had not seen Finland or Sweden since General Winter's advance."

Prussia grunted. His original intention was to get Germany and everyone else out—the result of his drunken pride.

"What about Norway's house?"

"It's abandoned; snowed-in. Not to mention the 'forces' that General Winter stationed there."

"What forces?"

Germany gave him an iffy look then shrugged. He pointed to Norway who appeared traumatized from what he had gone through. Prussia made a step towards him but was stopped by his brother's hand on his shoulder. "We tried. He's too stricken to make a full description."

"But what did you get?"

"'Fallen troops', 'ice minions', 'undead warriors'… at first, we thought it was just the cold. Until he showed us this…" A ripped piece of cloth emerged from Germany's pocket. "It may not be much but it looks pretty nomadic. He probably ripped it off one of his assailants."

"Vikings…" Norway breathed. All heads turned to him. He was shaking less now and appeared saner than before. "Vikings. They were Vikings. Our ancestors. Our dead ancestors."

"Dude, you remember?" America asked.

"What do you mean?" Britain inquired.

"It was the Vikings! He gestured with his hand and all of a sudden, we were surrounded from all sides by Vikings. They just popped out of the snow like that." Norway illustrated by pressing down his left palm against his right hand, thrusting it upward. "Like undead minions."

"General's a necromancer? Awesome!" America started sounding like his old self again.

"Wait." France paused, rubbing his chin. "So you are saying, _monsieur _Norway, that General Winter summoned the dead to fight for him?"

"_Ja_."

Germany and Prussia shared a look.


	5. Chapter 4: Trouble Up North Part 2

"Hey guys! Look at this."

Everyone looked to the corner. America's "hero" smile returned accompanied by a hand pointing at an open hatchet.

"What is it?"

"Take a look, Britain!"

"_Bouche __bée_!" France dug into the opening. He came out beaming with Krag-Jørgensen rifles in each hand. "There are plenty more inside!"

Prussia quickly scrambled into the compartment together with an irate Britain, a chortling America, and an annoyed Germany. They made quite a noise in there. Had there been a light bulb installed in the arms compartment, they would have stumbled onto a powerful radio that lay buried in a heap of old guns—mainly pre-World War bolt-action rifles and machine guns.

* * *

><p>"It's our best bet."<p>

"But the place might probably be crawling with Nazi zombies!"

"Sweet! Nazi zombies!" That made Germany grimace.

"America, please."

"But how do we know it's still there?"

"I just came from there," Norway reasoned. "We were just finished investigating the find when General Winter stuck."

China emerged from the compartment.

"Japan!"

The swordsman turned.

"Take this," China offered. Japan hesitantly accepted the gun. "We may not be fond of it but it will come in handy just in case."

* * *

><p>Norway stretched his thumb. <em>One<em>. _Two_. _Three_.

Germany pushed the door open. The nations poured out of the bunker in single file. Norway led the team, followed by Prussia, America, Britain, France, China, Japan, and Germany who made no effort to seal the shelter. They wouldn't be coming back, anyway.

The blizzard was harsher than ever. Trudging through snow as high as their waists slowed them down greatly. They had not expected this.

Visibility dropped to a radius of a few meters. Norway's unofficial task of being point man irritated him despite being accustomed to snowy seasons. This one was obviously different than the rest.

The first sign of trouble appeared when the stream froze over.

"Boo."

The sound drew a lady's screech from France whose gun flew in the air. The group was suddenly surrounded by Nordic Vikings. Or what was left of them.

"Open fire!" was Germany's order. Rifles lit up and cackled.

Prussia was the only one armed with modern weaponry but had limited ammunition for it. Half of his magazine clips were used up on their combatants. "It wouldn't be long until I'm going to need a Madsen!"

"Conserve ammunition, everyone!" Germany backed up to Norway. "How far to Trondheim?"

"A long way to go!"

"_Scheisse_!" Germany thrust his rifle forward, the bayonet stabbing deep into the chest of a skeletal minion just as it raised its axe. "Cover me, I'm reloading!" A mass of bones piled at Germany's feet as he yanked back the Krag-Jørgensen. He opened the chamber. _Mein Gott! Where are speed loaders when you need them?_

America tumbled back after unloading a full clip. More rose in the distance. "How many more of these guys are out here!"

"This way!" Japan pointed. The remains of a wooden sign board stuck out of the snow.

"We have to cross this creek!" China grunted as he slammed the butt of his rifle on a laughing skull. "It's frozen."

"As long as it does not give in to our weight, we're good to go!" Germany hollered.

They could have just hopped over but the thickness of the snow made it difficult for one to get a solid footing on the edge. France tried and ended up in the freezing temperatures of the stream whining loudly until Prussia dragged him out after crossing over at the cost of several magazines.

"Keep moving, everyone!"

Crushing snow, gunfire, and the whistle of the strong wind were the noise of the area. The group's assailants ranged from ancient nomads to the recently deceased. A little girl in a ripped coat stood in their way cooing them as they came closer. The sound of her voice was as nerve-wracking as Russia's remarks of invasion. It took a minute for Norway to approach the child and plunge his bayonet into her heart. That caught everybody's attention.

"She's not the only one," he cryptically warned.

"Why are you _dummkopfs_ just standing there! Move, _verdammt_!" _Don't just leave me guarding your _arschen_!_

The line of nations broke through the trance. The girl's hand burst from the snow and tightened its grip on Britain's leg. There was a scream and rapid fire. "These bloody wankers never stop!"

They followed Norway through the trees and eventually to where a road used to be. The street lamps stuck out like Popsicle sticks.

"This way!"

"How far is it?" Britain panted, slapping the chamber shut on his rifle.

"Less than a mile!"

A roadblock composed of overturned vehicles frustrated their escape. Prussia angrily slammed his hands hard against the belly of a sedan, attempting to push it over. He was joined by the other nations who succeeded in tilting it by a few angles.

"We'll have to go around it," China sighed.

"Behind you!"

Japan was quick to react. There was swift movement and the reanimated police officer was headless. More groans were heard from behind the mass of cars.

"I don't like this."

"Well, we don't have enough firepower to blast through this. And if we go around it, there's bound to be more of General Winter's goons lingering about!" Britain had to yell in order to be audible. The blizzard was becoming as deafening as overhead speakerphone sirens.

"Dude! Try climbing over it!" Well, America finally found a way through. In fact, he was already on the other side. Britain was the last to fall off the wreckage. _Bloody git_.

"Just follow the road and we're there!"

Pushing through the snow was hard enough. Fighting for one's life while doing so adds to the difficulty. Doing all these things while in the middle of a massive whiteout greatly worsened the situation. How badly could this get?

"_Merde_! I'm fresh out!"

"So am I!"

"Damn it, I'm down to my last clip!"

"Dude! These things work like baseball bats! Woohoo!"

* * *

><p>"Is it me or did we miss someone?"<p>

"It's definitely you, Britain."

"Don't worry," Norway assured. "Canada is with me."

Matthew seemed to appear out of Norway's back with his impish smile holding Kumajiro in one hand and a rifle in the other. "I'm okay."

"Dude! You scared the crap out of me, man."

"Sorry, America."

* * *

><p>The U-boat was like a preserved corpse inside a concrete sarcophagus. It was amazing how it didn't deteriorate that much over time. The faded numbers on the conning tower glared back at them like a pair of bloodshot eyes.<p>

Britain took the time to breathe the confined air of the sub-pen. "I have to admit, you guys rea—"

Prussia cut him off from atop the sail. "Yeah! We're awesome! Check out our technological awesomeness!"

The tea-drinker huffed. "… you are really irritating, do you know that?"

Germany appeared beside his brother. He gave the thumbs up. "Everything is fine. The ship is still in-tact and the engines are still operational."

"Alright! I miss the heat waves back home and my burgers!"

The opening of the bay doors produced a grating noise that everyone wanted to hear. Metal grating against metal became more pleasing to the ears after prolonged hours against violent whirring. It was followed later by howls and screeches.

"Damn it! They're still out there."

Several emaciated hands burst out of the freezing waters and grabbed hold of the U-boat's curved hull. Rattles of gun burst echoed within the sub-pen.

"Everyone on board, now!"

Denmark and Norway did not hide their reluctance to follow the other nations onto the floating vessel. Much to their surprise, the two Nordic states detached the gangplank themselves.

"Hey, wait! What are you guys doing!" Their faces showed discomfort.

Germany held Britain back. He, too, had a dismal expression. "No… no. We can't just leave them here!"

Denmark waved at them, plastering a smile on his face. "Don't worry about us! We can hold out on our own." Norway nodded in agreement. Behind them, a group of ragged men dragged themselves to the vessel.

"_Messieurs_, you cannot be serious!" France exclaimed.

"You have to come with us!" Japan called.

Denmark shrugged. "Well, we just can't leave home, right?" Norway turned around and emptied the last of his ammunition.

"Denmark," Germany sighed. _Don't be a_ dummkopf_!_

"Besides! I'm the 'King of Scandinavia' and Norway's part of the big family." Denmark's arm collapsed around Norway's neck dragging him closer to the heavy drinker.

"But still…" He found no more reason to argue. Somehow, he was refreshed by the memory of the flags that stood waving atop battlefields. That made him smile. "Alright, you take care then!"

Denmark waved back smiling cheerily. Norway was as calm as ever. The two shrunk to a pair of dots that immediately were swarmed by more dots inside a concrete matchbox as the U-boat pushed through mangled bodies and the freezing waters of DORA 1.

* * *

><p>An hour later, Germany picked up the receiver from the radio in the submarine's sonar compartment.<p>

"Denmark, this is Germany. Do you copy, over?"

There was nothing but static. Already, Prussia was behind him. Germany flipped on the switch on the receiver for the second time.

"Denmark, this is Germany. Do you copy, over?"

Again, there was only static. Germany repeated his broadcast three more times, effectively acquiring the attention of Britain, France, and China. He received a tap on his shoulder by Prussia just as he was about to issue the same call for the sixth time. He sighed. Heads bowed.

The present nations were silent.


	6. Chapter 5: Advances

"What do we do now?"

"Well, for starters, let's get to work on a really big heat ray." America pulled down a not-so-complex diagram. "Then we aim it Russia's place where General Winter is and blast 'em!"

Britain rubbed his forehead. _You bloody git._ "You know, I wouldn't go with you on that." He leered at the bespectacled nation. _Besides your ideas are one of the worst I've ever come across. They always are! You really never learn, do you, America. How is a childish fantasy such as a sun cannon or whatever is going to… help… defeat… _

There was a glint in his eye. "Oh God…" he muttered.

"What is it?" France asked.

"Probably some wacko idea of his," America replied stuffing a hamburger into his mouth.

"No. No! That's probably it. America, you're right!"

The remains of a patty plopped onto the table. "What?"

"Britain, are you sure you are feeling well?" Britain snapped France's hand away.

"A super weapon that causes a change in the weather, be it by inducing heat or altering the particles in the atmosphere, would definitely put a wedge into General Winter's plans."

France got the idea. "And stop him for good. _Un peu mon neveu_! That is indeed a brilliant idea, America."

"Hah! I knew I was right." He paused, scratching his head. "So how do you suppose we make one?"

Britain threw an empty bottle at his former subordinate. America ducked laughing. "You're the one who came up with the bloody idea! You should at least have some initiative as to how we're going to do it."

"Well, we could borrow some of Japan's technology."

America beamed. "Good idea! Japan and I have been getting along pretty well lately so I guess he wouldn't mind if we borrowed some of his stuff."

"Considering the current situation," Britain scoffed fixing his tie. "he would probably lend it to us without hesitation."

* * *

><p>The bar doors swung open. Germany and Prussia shocked everyone with their appearance—visibly trembling in ragged winter uniform of their respective soldiers. Both showed signs of combat. And both headed to the bar for a well-deserved (<em>thirst-induced<em>) round of beer.

"I'm surprised you're still here," Prussia remarked off-handedly, catching his filled mug. Germany was already making a long pull on his.

"What happened to you?" Hungary asked.

"We lost Scandinavia," Germany replied flatly. He set the half-empty mug down. "Denmark stayed behind with Norway when we evacuated. We tried to establish contact with him but we never received a reply." He didn't need to say anymore.

"So," Austria concluded from the fireplace, "General Winter is invading the whole world. Is that it?"

"_Ja_. That is it," Prussia wearily affirmed. He was too tired to even show his antagonism to the aristocrat. He made another pull, effectively emptying his glass.

"Italy was right," Hungary mumbled.

Germany's head snapped up. "Italy's here?"

"_Igen_. He's over by the fireplace… sleeping." She accompanied Prussia's younger brother to the couch just to assure him that his closest non-related ally was alright. Austria was crouched by the fireplace keeping it alive, a sack of wood beside him.

"So what did he say?" Germany asked, turning to Hungary.

"A lot of things." She relayed Italy's testimony to the taller nation. When she was done, he rubbed his chin and stared into the fire.

* * *

><p>"I am terribly sorry but I am having trouble right now!" Japan had to raise his voice in order to be heard. The noise in the background was loud enough.<p>

"What do you mean?"

"America, General Winter is also invading Asia! His troops are at our shores and we cannot hold them off for much longer!"

"How did he get troops?"

"I do not exactly know! They just rose from the water like restless spirits and began converging on our cities! We are also beset by a mighty blizzard and we cannot fully concentrate on our fronts!"

"Well don't you worry, Japan. I've got you covered." The Asian nation didn't even know whether or not the statement would pull through.

Britain tapped his shoulder. "America, is Japan alright?" France was already laying down the groundwork with his people.

America clasped his palm over the receiver. "He's fine. We just need to send in our militaries to help him stop the undead invasion at his place."

"WHAT!"

"No biggy, right?"

_God, I will rip your thumb off, you bloody git!_

* * *

><p>China seethed. <em>Damn them!<em>

"Sir, they've penetrated our right flank!"

Not far off, the east of the Great Wall was swarmed by ice-covered minions. He could see some of his own soldiers fighting against themselves. Well, actually the living soldiers against the dead ones.

"Sir, how come we do not have air support?" a wounded infantryman demanded.

"The blizzard is too strong! And we cannot risk destroying such a wonder!"

China could hear the young man sneer but he did not reprimand him. He couldn't blame him anyway. He turned to the face the opposing force. Strangely enough he could hear someone scream beside him and—

China was on the ground. _Who did that? _He looked up to see the same infantryman, now with an arrow deep into his chest.

"_Jiàn_!"

The nation looked up to see dots in the sky. The dots lengthened themselves and rained down upon them in the form of flaming arrows. China picked up the young man's corpse and held it over his body, rushing towards the nearest tower along with the rest of his troops.

He could feel the impact of the projectiles peck his side. Cāo_!_ Something warm scratched his thigh.

He dropped the body and hurled himself in the nearest tower.

"Are you okay, sir?"

"I am fine." He looked outside. _They're climbing up!_ The arrows just kept falling. "Tell the rest of the squadrons to hole up at the towers! We will hold this until the arrows stop falling. Then we push them off."

"_Shì de, xiān shēng_!"

The nation made a feel for the burn on his thigh. It stung but it was not much. The Era of Warring States was much worse. He watched the soldiers board up the windows to his right. A young conscript assembled his radio.

"Sir!" he called a minute later. "The Jinshanling section has been compromised!"

The senior officer looked to the nation with weary eyes. China returned with his beaming with fiery determination.

_We are not going to lose the Wall!_

* * *

><p>Japan stumbled back, allowing himself to be dragged away by one of the special ops soldiers. The middle-aged man kept on despite the heavy cut on his lower abdomen. The nation found some footing and allowed himself to be lifted upward.<p>

"You must not strain yourself!"

The two fell behind a gazebo. Musket balls riveted off the concrete columns. "Please, allow me the honor."

"But your stomach—"

"Please, sir!" There was a familiar flame in the man's eyes. "Let me. There was a story passed down in our family generation of our patriarch saving a region that would soon become a nation. He dragged the wounded stranger into a gazebo and gave his last breath defending him."

Japan suffered a brainwave. _The samurai who dragged me out of the battlefield… was… his ancestor? It has to be!_ "Sengoku?"

"_Hai_." The man grinned. It was his last. He fell into the nations' arms motionless, an arrow angled into his spine. More came flying inside. Japan was quick to react and carried the lifeless body into the nearby house, quick to evade the hail of arrows, bullets, and spears.

"I am glad to have given the honor," he whispered back into the corpse's ear. He lay the body down, caring not to wipe the blood off his clothes. With a brush of his hand, the man's eyes slid shut.

Outside, a group of former swordsmen drew their worn blades. What was left of their faces was covered by the helmets they wore and the snow that painted the rest of their decayed bodies with specs of white.


	7. Chapter 6: Maginot Line

"I got it."

"What is it, West?"

"Prussia, call together the rest of Europe that has either survived or is not yet attacked by General Winter. I have an idea in mind."

Germany set the manual down. Prussia eyed the title before going to the phone. _West, man, you need to buy books about domesticated living once in a while._

* * *

><p>Belarus wordlessly whisked the Baltic Trio—more like supervised their entry—into Russia's room at the hospital.<p>

"Ah! Good. Now everyone is here." He was still on the gurney albeit the absence of an IV monitor and dextrose. "Now, we can start the meeting."

"What do you have in mind, Big Brother?" Oddly enough, Belarus remained by the doorway, keeping close to Lithuania, much to his surprise.

"We work together to stop General Winter."

Estonia quivered. He nudged Latvia. Who nudged Lithuania. Who went to nudge Belarus but decided against it. He raised his hand. "Um, Mr. Russia, how can General Winter be stopped?"

"Simple." Russia brought out his "magical stick" from underneath the mattress. To the Baltic Trio, it was the dreaded water pipe which bore all their signatures, written in blood. Theirs to be precise.

"Violence cannot be the solution!" Estonia protested. He felt the tip of a sharp knife press hard against his spine. "Then again…"

Russia plucked out a mound of ohagi. "I am sorry to have to disagree with you, _Estoniya_. General Winter came to us with violence. Now we come to him with violence. First of all, we must make preparations."

"What preparations?" Ukraine piped.

Russia gave his older sister one of his big smiles as a mountain of envy descended on Belarus. "We arm ourselves."

"With conventional weapons?"

"_Da_. They are useful against the _vurdalaki_."

Latvia raised his hand. _Do I still have to do this?_ "What do we do when we've rearmed ourselves, Mr. Russia?"

"We will all help the other nations to stop General Winter's campaign." He turned to Belarus. "Belarus, you and Big Sister will start some trouble from the inside." Then he shifted his attention to the Baltic Trio before she could protest. "You three will assist the G8. You all still have muscle, _da_?"

The three countries nodded. They didn't know whether to be glad or feel depressed. It wasn't intended as a cruel pun, right? Estonia asked, "What would you be doing?"

Russia grinned. "I will make a few phone calls first."

* * *

><p>"We've lost contact with our forces at Hakodate!"<p>

"_Nani_?" _Does that mean Hokkaido is lost?_

The officer handed Japan his binoculars. The blizzard partially obscured the view from the tower. But the sight was unmistakable. _Samurai warriors… against their own offspring._

He could make out the curved lines that came down upon the bodies who struggled to move. There were dark patches on the ground—he did not want to know what that was. _This is most dishonorable!_

"Sir, people are rising from the snow along our western coasts."

"People?" Japan whipped his head to the man.

"They appear to be samurai warriors from ancient times. The report is obscure but according to the descriptions, they wear lacquer plates and fight with cracked swords." There was evidence of doubt in his voice. "I am not entirely trusting of this information but considering the many years I have served with the men who gave me this report, I decided to seek your counsel on these matters."

Japan returned his sights to the coast. "They are who they are."

"_Sumimasen_, _sensei_?" The officer was thoroughly puzzled.

"From what I see here, the report does not lie." The nation turned to him. "Do what you must. Even if we are against our own ancestors."

"_Hai_." The officer bowed and turned to his subordinates. Orders were given and more bows were received. It pained the nation to go against the people he had known thousands of years ago. If men like Miyamoto were to have been brought up against them, it would be an immense and painful disgrace.

Japan exited the bunker amidst the eruption of the howitzers not far off. Hailing a jeep, he rode back to his troops' base of operations. He met with his superior.

"What is it, Japan?"

"I need to talk to South Korea."

"Same here. He will be on shortly."

"_Arigatōgozaimashita_." The screen was a mass of static before South Korea's face went onto display. Japan already knew what bad news await.

"South Korea-_san_, is everything well?"

"Not so, _aniki_! I'm pretty worried about North. From the looks of it, he isn't taking the winter season all too well."

"Are you sure? Are you secure?"

"Not for long!" Static continued to interfere with the display. "I'm pooling my soldiers at the border just in case something bad happens. It's really cold now!"

Japan felt his shoulders collapse. _He is attacking all sides._ "How is North Korea faring?"

"You know I haven't heard from him much since…" Gunfire burst just behind the younger nation followed by a mixture of voices and sirens. More gunfire echoed just behind. South Korea turned to face one of his field commanders. "Don't tell me North's gone on the offensive again!"

"It's not North, Korea-_san_!" The younger nation whipped his head to the screen.

"What do you mean, _aniki_?"

"It's General—" The transmission ended. Abrupt and hanging. "… Winter."

Japan sulked deeper into whatever space there was behind him. He watched the static for what seemed to be an hour before a hand tapped his shoulder. He looked to his superior and bowed.

* * *

><p>"We need to build a defensive line."<p>

Austria's brow went up. "And how are we going to do that?"

"We imitate the Maginot Line. Only this time, we'll make it more awesome than the France's crappy one," Prussia added.

"That's a great idea, Germany! How about I make some pasta while you all work on it?"

Germany's palm met Italy's face. "As I was saying, we need to establish a barrier that would hold out against General Winter's advance. And for that, we are going to need your full cooperation on this."

"Hold on now, _hermano_." It was Spain. "Do you mean that we are going to pool together all our resources on a giant wall?"

"I did not necessarily mean a—"

South Italy cut him off. "Yeah, potato bastard. This giant wall of yours is going to sap all our supplies!"

"It's not a wall—"

"I do have some left over stones back home," mentioned Turkey.

Greece scoffed. "Like they'd stand up to something."

"Would you just shut up, kid?"

"Would you stop waking up my cats?"

_Mein Gott!_ Germany rubbed his temples as a wave of arguments erupted around the beer hall. His eyes searched for his older brother… and found him meeting Hungary's frying pan.

* * *

><p>A series of booms erupted from the north followed by a series of rapid bursts and distant crackles. Beijing was now under siege. From Han Dynasty soldiers to those who perished in the Second World War, it grew increasingly difficult to stave off the seemingly endless number of warriors that arose against them.<p>

China felt his thigh bulge from where the flaming arrow had once hit. It was now getting worse. _Much worse than a normal scratch._ He told himself repeatedly that he would have a doctor tend to it once the city has been held. He told himself the same thing back at the Wall.

_The Wall is gone. Xinjiang, Gansu, Ningxia, Nei Mongol, Heilongjiang, Jilin, Laoning, Shaanxi, and now Hebei?_ "How are the city's northern districts?"

"Sir! They are converging from all sides!"

"How is that possible?" China glared at the young man. "Did we lose Shanxi?"

The officer gulped. "_Shì de, xiān shēng_."

Shǐ_!_ They were flanked. Beijing's southern districts were secure but a counter-offensive by the People's Liberation Army (PLA) would yield little to no success. The armed forces were heavily strained. A third of their ground forces were lost to the winter season with the dead soldiers being reanimated as frozen conscripts fighting against their own brethren.

China stared back outside at the pecks of snow that continued to whiten the city. The unusually cold temperatures forced people indoors to avoid freezing to death if they lingered too long outside.

Air battles were now out of the equation. The brutality of the snow storm would literally drop any aircraft within its atmosphere. _We've lost over twenty airbases and we cannot do anything about them!_

"How many aircraft have we relocated so far?"

"Sir, the numbers are inaccurate and we are still doing a recount."

_Still counting?_ "What were the original numbers?"

"Around 300 aircraft, sir."

_That's already inaccurate!_ An irritation in his thigh caught his hand's attention. The nation sat down to relieve his leg pain. "_Diu_… this hurts."

"Sir, we can get a medic to treat that."

"I don't think—"

A general stepped into the room. The junior official gave his salute and respects before being relieved by his senior. The older man turned to the nation. "China, our northern districts are being torn apart by our own weapons." He cleared his throat. "Are you still able to assist our men at the front?"

"I am ready as ever."

"_Ké yì_. The 27th and the 65th are fully committed at Changping, Shunyi, and Pinggu."

* * *

><p>Prussia felt himself being yanked by the collar. At least he didn't drop the bombs in his hands.<p>

"Hey, West! What the hell was that fo—"

Germany pointed to a spike in the ground. Prussia sighed.

"Uh, thanks, West. I almost went up like that…"

"Watch your step next time, okay? And take off your iPod, _verdammt_! I've been telling you over and over again that I've covered this area with mines."

"Did you fence it?"

"I was going to." Barbed wire lined the horizon as German engineers set about digging holes and making concrete domes. "It may not be much but it would offer some protection against General Winter."

"Yeah, his goons will be popping up out of the ground in any number of places."

"Not unless they're snowed over right?"

Prussia smiled. "Right." _I was just about to say that._

It did not take long for the bunkers to be set up. However, the weapons that were to be installed into them were delayed causing a very annoyed Germany to march to the road where the goods were supposed to pass through.

His palm went to his face upon seeing Austria and Hungary arguing with the convoy escorts.

"What the hell is going on here?" Germany demanded.

"Why don't _you_ tell us?" The look on Hungary's face was enough to scare Prussia. Only Prussia. If that glare had evolved, then Prussia would not be the only nation terrified to wits end.

"We are establishing a defensive line!"

Austria raised his voice. "We do not need a defensive line!"

"It's for your own safety! Don't you see the threat General Winter poses?"

"We do! But this is too much."

"_Mein Gott_! You really don't understand, do you? General Winter can cause people—dead people—to come up from the ground and fight you! Considering how many have succumbed to the cold in the past millennia, who knows how many conscripts he—"

Hungary's frying pan made short work of him. She didn't have to do it. In fact, she had never used it on Prussia's younger brother. But because of anger, she had lost it.

"Turn back, now!" She ordered.

The driver of the lead vehicle thought about making one final protest before dropping his head in agreement. He entered the truck and was about to pull back the stick when someone came into view not far off.

"Hey, West! What's taking the guns so long?"

Austria and Hungary turned to glare at the nation who proceeded to wave at the trucks in bewilderment and frustration.

"Wait! Why are you leaving? You can't just go!"

"They can. We made them go," the aristocrat remarked. "You should as well."

Now Prussia was annoyed. "Look, Four-eyes, if you don't want to get your _arsch_ frozen over like the others, then I suggest you—"

She was fast. He was faster. Hungary was definitely surprised that Prussia had caught her frying pan mid-flight. The older Germanic nation gripped the cast-iron steel above his head and shot Hungary a look that subdued her. It was that face of his… the face that she had seen countless times in the past. The way Prussia stared at her; it was as if his eyes glowed.

Tense silence.

"If you don't want our help, then fine. We're leaving."

Prussia stooped to lift up a semi-conscious Germany. Heaving towards the lead truck, Austria and Hungary could not help but watch them go. No longer were they irritated nor angered. They were, rather, timid albeit slightly frightened.

As the trucks disappeared into the horizon, the wind picked up and General Winter broke through the fencing.


	8. Chapter 7: March of the Ice Age Part 1

**NOTE: To the anonymous reviewer: Michigan, have you been reading my manuscript?**

* * *

><p>An agent burst into the war room. He thrust a folder of reports into America's hands.<p>

"Sir, we've lost contact with our main base in Juneau."

"Wait, what?"

"He means that Alaska's gone!"

America and the agent tensed. "W-who's there?"

"Ugh! You idiot… it's me. Canada!"

* * *

><p>America paced frantically around the room.<p>

"America, what is it?"

The bespectacled nation ceased in his tracks. Britain was slightly taken aback by the bags underneath his eyes. "America, what happened to you?"

"I think we'll have to…"

"Have to what?"

"Have to…"

France entered the room, rolls of blueprints in his hands. "Is there a problem?"

"A… a nuclear solution."

"WHAT!"

"We got nukes." America now regained the speed of his speech. "Let's nuke the place to end this!"

"What the bloody hell are you talking about, you bloody git?" Britain screamed.

The blueprints dropped. "You cannot be serious!"

"Nukes. We nuke 'em."

Immediately, Britain and France's hands were on America's throat, their voices screaming deafeningly in his ears. _Nuke, nuke, nuke!_

* * *

><p><em>Ding! Dong!<em> There was an exchange of rock, paper, and scissors before one of the taller of the two inhabitants went to check on the door.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THREE DOING HERE!"

"Sorry we, like, didn't listen to your whole defensive plan thingy."

"Don't you think you should let us inside?"

"_Nein_!" The door swung only to be met by a firm hand.

"Wait, _Németország_!"

Germany peeked, his mood now beyond irate. Hungary had those eyes. Gott verdammt_! Not those eyes again!_ Along with them came a sparkle. And a plea.

"Please! We're sorry we didn't pay attention earlier. We survived, see!" She gestured with her free hand at the ragged uniforms they all wore. "Look, I know you're still not happy about last time. But, please, let us in before General Winter ends us!"

_He can _end_ nations? _Germany held the door open. Austria eyed the carbine in his hand.

"You know, General Winter cannot be stopped by conventional weapons."

"I already know that! This is against his minions."

"Oh yeah, about them," Poland began, setting his bare feet before the fire. "They're, like, coming in from all sides and from the ground so, like, yeah. They're everywhere."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!"

All heads turned to Germany.

"_Ungarn_, did you say that General Winter would _end_ you?"

"_Igen_. Why?"

"General Winter could not possibly do such a thing! He only weakens them."

"Not with the change in climate, West." Prussia's boots echoed off the stairwell. An amateur filmmaker would call it a dramatic entrance but the older nation simply walked down to the living room with a rifle in hand. "You forgot."

He set down a book on the table. "_Bruder_, have you been reading my manuals?"

"I couldn't help it. You know, you should buy books on domesticated living once in a while."

"I do! Well… on rare occasions."

"Like that time during Valenti—" Austria was quickly subdued.

"Anyway," Prussia continued, "with the change in climate, General Winter's power has been granted an immense boost. Which means he has the means to effectively kill a country… or something like that."

"You're unsure?" Hungary piped. "Did you read the manuals twice? At least to add more ground to your theory?"

Prussia huffed. "I'm too awesome for that. Besides, my awesomeness would dictate the accuracy and correctness of my postulates."

Hungary reached for her back but remembered that she left her frying pan (or whatever remained of it) back in Budapest. Well, there was always one in the kitchen.

"If that is the case," Germany interjected, having released Austria from a stiff arm lock. "We should inform the rest of Europe while fortifying our positions."

"West, you do that. I'll be in charge of making the preparations."

Austria coughed. "Don't you mean 'defenses'?"

"Shut up, Four-eyes." A second later, Prussia was on the floor with a fresh bump on his head and a beaming Hungary on top.

"Is that my frying pan?"

Hungary shrugged. "It's German-made." Istenem_! Got him this time._

* * *

><p>The blade came down smoothly, ensuring another clean cut. Japan ignored the fact that the bodies of his enemies were so thoroughly preserved in the snow that their blood froze. It was not that he relished the feeling of the warm fluid spraying into his face.<p>

"Keep fighting!" he urged. By now, their numbers had dwindled and the idea of having to fight against your own comrade was ruining his soldiers' morale. A corporal used the last bullet in his pistol against his temple because he (_murdered_) killed his own brother, upsetting the nation.

Their full battalion was reduced to scattered units. Japan had long since been deprived of his ammunition. Now he took to slicing blue grunts and peasants.

There was a man in the familiar lacquer armor charging headlong into him. Japan's reduced visibility offered him no assets and the nation parried the former samurai's strike. From underneath the damaged helmet, he could see the tinted skull of his assailant.

Japan pushed the warrior off him. He grabbed the window of opportunity and thrust his weapon deep into his opponent's chest.

He heard a heavy moan before the body cracked into large chunks—crimson rocks that shattered underneath his boots.

_This is mildly disturbing_. Japan checked his surroundings. He could see some of his own men—distinguishable by the intelligible dialogue and the accuracy of weapon fire.

"Hold on! I'm coming!"

He was wise enough to see the ground on which he set his feet on. And it saved him the trouble of stumbling over a collapsed road sign that bore an arrow the kanji letters that read _Tokyo_.

* * *

><p>This was something no one had expected. The doctor was too shocked to explain how this could have occurred. China's flesh wound had evolved into a crest of frost that continued to slowly expand to his lower leg.<p>

"What do you mean you do not know how to treat this—"

The doctor moved a mirror to the gurney and slightly angled it to off the end. China could see what the physician tried to explain. Even he couldn't find the words for it. And it scared him.

* * *

><p>All he could see was darkness. Then a piercing light broke through the black veil and he found himself bound to a chair. No wonder he couldn't lift up his hand to cover his face. Or at least, wipe it.<p>

Sweat trickled down his forehead and drenched his suit. France and Britain were busy analyzing the plans. At least they didn't argue this time.

"Hey…"

They ignored him.

"Hey… wha… happened?"

The two older nations shared a look. "You were about to do something stupid."

"Oh yeah… where's my nukes?"

"Yeah, that stupid thing."

"Come on… nuke 'em. We gotta!"

Britain sighed. "America, have you learned anything from the Cold War?"

"Yeah… build better nukes."

France cleared his throat. "The very idea, _Amerique_, of using radiation to eliminate a natural threat—"

"Natural threat? We can just melt the snow off General Winter's a—"

"Don't you read your textbooks?" Britain snapped. "Radioactive energy is different from thermal energy! Russia knows that better than you do, even. Everybody does… right, France?"

"Eh?"

Britain whispered into his ear. "You understand CERN's reports better than I do, right?"

"Idiot! How am I supposed to digest every single word written on those physicists' papers?"

"Aha!" The two nations turned to see a confident America grinning from ear to ear. "You both want to use a nuclear solution! Better put that nuclear lab of yours to good use."

That was quite rude. Once again, Britain and France were on America's throats mainly over his insulting comment on the European Organization for Nuclear Research. Unbeknownst to them was the fact that General Winter's offensive could shut down the sites that were located in Central and Western Europe.

Outside, the soldier standing guard wondered just how similar were the three countries' ways of personally discussing methods to world crises in comparison to their respective diplomats hurling chairs at each other during similar meetings.

* * *

><p>Downstairs, in the mess hall, Canada gulped down his coffee in frustration. America was so stubborn no matter how much went down the drain just to prove to him that nuclear weapons were futile attempts at resolving issues. Now, he couldn't even get his attention so he could cover his flank.<p>

"Well, Kumajiro, I guess that leaves us with no other option."

"Who, me?"

Canada smacked his fist against his palm, a determined smile on his face. "We muster the troops!"

A big question mark popped over his bear's head. "Who are you, again?"

"I'm Canada. And I have a state to defend."

He felt a tug on his sleeve. "I'm hungry."

The nation opted to postpone the next meal but decided against it. His stomach was agitated enough to start a coup; it was a loud growl. "Maybe we do that after we find something to eat."

"You're weird."


	9. Chapter 8: March of the Ice Age Part 2

**NOTE: Hong Kong is... a very impressive place. Just got back from vacation.**

* * *

><p>Hungary would have met the snow had it not been for Austria. She faltered and almost lost consciousness in his arms. The damage done to her was severe. Austria brought her back to her knees. But so was he.<p>

The animated Teutonic knights made no attempt to wipe the blood off their blades. The Undead warriors closed the gap around two. Their weapons were alight with a bright blue and coated itself in frost. Both nations cast a bitter look at their innumerable powerful foes. Hungary knew her strength had gone—Austria, the same.

Hungary shut her eyes and braced herself, gripping hard on Austria's arms as the latter embraced her widely.

"I wish we could have gone down differently," Hungary whispered.

"_Ja_. If only… Hungary…"

She looked up and her lips were greeted by Austria's. It was short but blissful. She pressed hard against him as she felt her surroundings melt into spring. The walls clambered upward and the aristocrat's classical music replaced the raging winds. It lasted long enough.

There was the sound of the inevitable thrust—of steel piercing through flesh, muscle, and bone. The world was swiftly painted with white and the warmth of summer dissipated into the cruel temperatures of the battlefield.

However, there was no pain. They did not feel the absence of any more blood nor any numbness groping at their bodies. It took them a moment to open their eyes and realize why fate had spared them.

Austria leaned back and felt the shockwaves of the display.

The Teutonic swordsman tilted its skull as its bones shattered at the strength of Prussia's grip, all the while the Plague-bearing sword wrenched deep into his stomach. Prussia's winter uniform was slowly being overcome by a growing mass of crimson and ice. The other knights paused. And attacked.

Prussia stammered as he struck down the raging warriors. By the time bones littered the field around the three, he felt a strong numbness steal away his legs. He tilted and fell, assuming a fetal position in the snow.

"_Scheiβe_…"

"Prussia!" Hungary screamed, breaking through Austria's lock and collapsing over his pale body. "Prussia!"

She turned him over making him face upward. Frost began to accumulate and spread around his abdomen. His ruby eyes seemed to fade. He coughed out blood and tried to move.

She couldn't believe it. She did not want to believe it. She did not want to grasp the reality that Prussia was (_dying_) ending. Just like that. A sword through his midsection and already he was in a heavy struggle for life.

"Prussia, you idiot!" She tried to illicit a response from him. He shifted his gaze to her and coughed some more—no words. "Prussia! You can't just… go away like this!" "Die" was such a strong word.

Austria, too, could not fully grasp the situation. He had seen the demise of many nations, some of them under his hand. But looking at Prussia—a foe who had been as much as a friend at times—whose antics he grew accustomed to, he felt the same emotions as his former wife.

Tears formed around Hungary's eyes, gracefully strolling down her face. It should not have gone like this. Regardless of how much she despised him, there was always that soft spot drilled into her a thousand years before.

"Prussia…" she sobbed, cupping his head in her hands. "Why… why did you…"

General Winter's menacing chuckle reverberated all around them.

Austria greatly disliked Prussia. That and he also respected him. Their numerous wars had seen to that. He sometimes satisfied himself with the thought of Prussia ceasing to exist. But if he did not come around, Germany wouldn't. And he had great respect for Ludwig than most nations despite having to go through the Anschluss.

"We have to stop the Plague!" Hungary wailed, pressing her hands on Gilbert's stomach. "Prussia, don't go out on us!"

_How in the world are we going to stop this accursed disease?_ Austria lent in his aid. "Come on, now. Don't die out on us!"

"I…" Prussia managed before letting loose another red spatter.

Hungary hushed him. "Don't talk, now. It will only make things worse." Prussia could see Hungary's face—the look in her eyes and the sweat that covered her face. Wait, that wasn't just sweat, right? There was no blood. It was not melted snow. She cried for him.

Prussia smiled at the thought. Hungary cried for him. That was something he never expected. For being such an ass, he didn't think of this kind of reaction from his favorite victim.

"Listen, I'll stay. Go find Germany!" the aristocrat ordered.

"No!" Austria looked at Hungary. "I'll stay!"

"But—"

"I know him more than you do! We've known each other long enough to know each other's strengths and weaknesses! Right now, he needs me!" she declared.

Seconds ticked before Austria arose and rushed off into the distance leaving the two nations in the middle of the white field.

By the time he disappeared, the remains of a surviving knight edged closer to them from behind. Its groans were masked by the gale.

* * *

><p>"Shit, this is nasty!"<p>

Alaska was under a blanket of snow that was twice thicker than its normal coat. Fighting a supernatural enemy on something that acted like some dense flood forced the coalition of American and Canadian forces to resort to digging trenches. This further reduced the efficiency of their mechanized divisions. Even the Abrams crews were having difficulty aiming the cannon despite being trained to fight entrenched.

America pressed the receiver button hard. "Hey, Britain! Can you hear me over there?"

"Loud and clear!" There was that annoying scratch of static on the line but no one was bothered by it this time. The enemy was pushing them back rather quickly.

"You keeping up?"

"I've had worse."

"No shit. I lost three tanks out there. And Canada's having a rough time over at his." There came that feeling again. _Why now? _It refused to be silenced. _Well, I guess I have been putting it off…_ It continued to resonate in his mind. _Gah! Alright, already… just give me a sec._ America breathed deep. "Uh, Britain?"

"Yes?"

"I guess, uh… well, thanks." _There! I said it._

"Huh?"

America pressed his forehead into his hand. "Thanks."

"For what?"

_Don't rub it in. I know you know._ "For kicking me back in shape."

There were a few seconds of static. Followed by a loud laugh on the other end. "No need to be so humble, America!"

_Shut up. I already gave in._ "Look, I wouldn't have pushed the red button had it not been for you two guys. So don't push it, alright?"

"You learned your lesson?"

"Yeah."

He was sure he heard Britain snort. Or was that a smirk? "But I'm keeping the nukes just in case."

"Same here. Use them only"—there was heavy stress on that word—"as a last resort."

"I hear you."

"Do I have to say it again?"

America whined. "'Nukes are for the lightheaded', I know already!"

"Desperate times call for desperate measures. But now is not a desperate time. At least, not yet."

"Oh, look, a burger!" Hopefully that changed the subject.

"You bloody git."

It did. "Alright, I still got a few more big toys left. The Navy's in good shape and I got a carrier battle group hauling ass over here."

"And I only have an SAS unit along with some of your chaps… friggin' exodus." How cynical. _Well, he did lose his islands._

"Take care over there, okay? They're pushing us back." It was grim now.

"I know."

"Hey, how's France with the big ray-gun?"

"I haven't had a look at any progress reports lately but I hear that he's reached a milestone, somewhat." _Good thing the CERN facilities were stripped and evacuated._

"Whatever."

_Is that git munching on his fast food sandwich again?_ "America, are you eating?"

"Yeah, you want one? I can have a cargo plane drop you a crate."

"Er, no thanks."

"Suit yourself."

The conversation ended. It was back to the situation at hand. He raised his binoculars. Sure enough, General Winter's goons were in eyesight of Juneau where their headquarters were located. They'd have to move if the Army couldn't hold them off. America cringed when another Abrams erupted in a ball of flame. _Damn you, Snowball._

* * *

><p>Japan plowed through the snow. To his right was a line of Japanese riflemen, some of them conscripts. The strain of war had taken its toll and his government had decided on drastic measures. Young boys and girls, given guns and swords and hasty training, to fight their own fathers and mothers—Japan loathed the thought and continued his inspection of his troops.<p>

An officer ran up to him. "The artillery batteries are in place. Everything is set."

The nation nodded. "Any sign of the enemy?"

"None, so far."

"Very well, then. And of our reserves?"

"High command has dispatched—"

There was a distant whistle followed by a plume of snow and dirt rising ten feet high. Everyone within the blast radius felt the earth give way.

"_Chikushō_!"

More explosions rattled the defense line along with the cackle of gunfire and the screams of wounded soldiers. Japan crawled on his belly and over the remains of an infantryman. Added to his burden was the ringing in his ears. The mortar shell landed a bare six feet from them.

"Enemy tanks!" A conscript screamed. Japan picked up the dead officer's binoculars and peered through. An entire mechanized column began blasting holes into their defensive line. For a moment, he was puzzled. A second later, it ticked.

Japan wheeled around just in time to avoid a bullet. He scanned the area behind them and growled. He found the communications man less than a minute later. They radioed in the question that was now on everyone's minds: "Where the hell is our armor?"

Thereafter came the response of his generals: "Armor temporarily disabled near Shikoku. Reinforcements on the way."

_Shikoku? We are in Shikoku!_ "Unless…" Japan grabbed the binoculars and ran to the sandbags. Underneath that mass expanse of snow was a frozen river. If the enemy's tanks (_wait_) pushed through (_those are_), the weight of the armor (_our_) would send them collapsing (_mechanized divisions!_) into the freezing waters.

Japan ran back and gave a rapid succession of orders centered on a single objective: hold the line at Shikoku.

China limped into the temporary command field office. Underneath his armpit was a crutch and a pale white leg. This surprised his general but not the liaison officer who witnessed the doctor's improvised operation.

"Anything?"

"Good news and bad news…" the liaison officer coughed.

"Good news?"

"Sichuan is still in our hands." The general attempted to smile but drew no reaction from the country he served.

"Bad news?"

"It may not last."

China raised a brow. The situation on his leg was draining him of his energy and he was exhausted when he clamored off the gurney. "The People's Army?"

"Is strained. Our active personnel are loosing morale and we are throwing everything we can at them. Even our reserves are having problems of their own."

"Such as?"

"Well," the liaison officer began, "considering the fact that the People are fighting their own dead, it would be quite difficult on their psyche, no? I mean, killing one's own father or mother or daughter or someone whom one has known for quite a long time is tormenting enough." He kept his face impassive despite the pride in his heart. He thanked his brother for convincing him to study psychology in college.

China nodded. "Very well, I guess I should head to the front."

"Wait!" The nation turned to face his general, a look of worry on his face. "You can't go out there… at least, not yet."

"Do not worry about my leg…"

"You are evidently stressed, _xiān shēng_," argued the liaison officer.

"But the People—"

"Should not be your concern. Let yourself rest. You need to recover." _Besides, I can't risk sending out whom I serve, battered and wounded and tee tottering all over the place._

China winced. He was right. Another round on the battlefield could worsen his condition (_and hasten this ailment!_). But he could operate the artillery.

Two hours later, Sichuan was peppered with snowy craters as munitions from both sides converged on what remained of the region.


	10. Chapter 9: March of the Ice Age Part 3

Everything was a blur. His ears felt muffled while his visibility was limited. Three seconds later, there came the distinctive high-pitched ringing and the unfolding of the scenery before his eyes. Mein Gott_!_

Germany reached for his rifle but saw it shrink in the snow. Puzzled, he looked around. Now, he turned angrily at whoever was dragging him away from the battlefield.

"It's a lost cause, _Deutschland_,"—_that voice_—"Our only hope for now is to pull back"—_can't be_—"Netherlands and Luxemburg will cover the fronts…" Scheiße.

Germany opened his mouth but was greeted with a burning sensation in his throat. He coughed and stained his hands with dirt and blood. _Mortar... mortar shells._

"Come on! We don't have much time." He could hear the deafening bursts of a machine gun above his head. He caught one of the empty cartridges in his hand and was impressed. _For someone her size, she sure can carry something that big._

Seconds later, there came the notorious click and a short curse in French. "I'm out!"

"Belgium…" Germany managed. His throat was throbbing.

"Shh, don't talk. It'll only get worse for you." She sounded so gentle yet so fierce.

_I just want to say how sorry I am…_

* * *

><p>The whir of the helicopter startled Japan. On one of the cliffs at the edge of Japanese coast, the final brigade was being reduced to waste by its own dead. Japan broke a <em>naginata<em> pole and thrust weapon's blade into its owner.

"Japan! Japan!"

The nation whirled around. _What are you doing here! You'll get shot out of the sky!_

"_Aniki_! Come on!"

"No!"

"_Aniki_!"

To punctuate his point, Japan pushed his blade through a young woman's head and twisted it viciously until the skull fragmented. "Leave before I do the same to your rotary engines!"

South Korea sighed. He gestured to a squadron of 707th Special Mission Battalion sitting tight behind him. The sergeant nodded and shared a neutral look to his fellow subordinates. The message was communicated without any words. Silencers were rolled onto the barrels of their rifles. South Korea accepted the dart rifle and rested his back against the door of the helicopter.

Despite the strength of the gale that came along this endless blizzard, the pilot managed to steady the chopper long enough for the country to take aim. The crosshairs centered on the back of Japan's (_exposed_) neck.

_Three… two… one…_

The black berets swooped down as Japan went limp. The last of his soldiers had already shifted sides after tasting death. There was an exchange of gunfire as the undead Japanese Special Forces group clashed with the 707th. Both sides took casualties.

In the end, Japan had to be restrained as he let his emotions run high having realized what had just happened.

"_Aniki_, we cannot win this war without you."

"You should have left me!"

South Korea bent down to face him. "_Aniki_, we have set all our differences aside a long time ago. Let's work together on this. No one can beat General Winter alone. North tried. He was just as stubborn as you."

Japan looked up. "_Nani_?"

"North tried to beat the season. He lost. We pulled out just as they broke through the parallel. Seoul is gone, too, _aniki_."

Japan let his gaze shift to the stone-faced soldiers of the 707th. Three seats were empty. One was unconscious and had his leg wrapped in gauze. The floor of the aircraft was smeared with red.

South Korea faced the cockpit. "Pilot, how much longer?"

"Thirty minutes, _jang-gunnim_."

"Where are we going?" the older nation asked.

"To our allies' navy battle group."

"America?"

"Southeast Asia."

* * *

><p>China had lost full control of his left leg. Carried on a stretcher, he managed to hold onto a radio to call in an artillery strike in their area. He could see the young privates begin to succumb to the effects of fatigue. Lijiang will have to prep up.<p>

_Tibet! Tibet's mountain ranges will help!_ He almost forgot. If General Winter would attempt a flanking maneuver, he would have to go through the Himalayas. But what if the mountains would give way to his troops? They were, after all, snowed over year on end. _How far until the next encampment_, he didn't ask.

_A few more minutes_, the private replied.

"Who is in charge?" After losing their headquarters to a sudden artillery barrage, it was clear that the leadership of the PLA was crippled.

It took five minutes to reach tent city. Sandbags reinforced the walls of rock that encircled the snowy plateau. Artillery cannons lined the rear, launching their munitions high and mighty against the cold wind. _These colonels should be promoted!_

* * *

><p>Germany steadied his hand for the fifty-seventh time. Naturally, he would recover from war shock rather quickly. But with Prussia gone and the loss of his state, it was rather hard on him. No tears were shed. Only sweat and blood, frozen on the ground and buried by the snow.<p>

What made things worse on his conscience was that he shared double-deckers with Belgium. He didn't know whether it was cruel humor on Austria's part or the result of Hungary's cracked spirit. Even countries were supposed to follow the regulations of mortals; gender-mixed quarters had seemingly become the norm in this chaotic world.

He stared at his coffee, watching it evaporate in his cup, unable to drink it. Because Belgium prepared it for him. He couldn't even shave. Because he was using a Belgian-made razor. He was too damned to lie down on the cot. Knowing all too well that Belgium would be sleeping right above him.

"_Gott verdammt_," he whispered.

Belgium walked into the shelter. The mere sight of her gave him a moment of complete paralysis. He shook it off and felt queasy as she sat beside him.

"I'm sorry about what happened to Prussia," she apologized in his native tongue.

"It's alright," he managed.

She looked at him. Germany felt a stone hand grip at his heart. Those eyes.

"_Belgien_, _ich_…"

"It's really hard to forgive someone who did something deemed unforgivable," she began. Already her voice wobbled. And her eyes sparkled.

_Curse the Schleiffen Plan!_ "I really am…"

She broke. "_Deutschland_, you didn't have to really follow what they told you."

"I'm truly sorry… I know you've heard it many times before… even Prussia would—"

His heart skipped a beat. How could he not have shed tears for his brother? Was he really that cold-hearted? Growing up out of so many wars, was this the result of the bloody conflicts courtesy of the mortals who embodied the blood of his state?

"_Preußen_…"

It didn't surprise him that he caved in silently over Belgium's shoulder. She, too, was caving in over his. Both were locked in a wet embrace.

"I am truly sorry…" _If only I could more than just say it…_

"I forgive you…" _If only I could bring my whole heart to do it…_

Austria watched from his quarters. The silhouettes in his cousin's tent were sufficient enough to tell him that they made up. _Hopefully_.

He turned to check on his patient. Hungary had never spoken much since the incident. Prussia was gone. A childhood friend forever gone to history. Did the Frosted Plague really have the capability to _kill_ nations as easily as hypothermia killed mortals?

"_Magyarország_?"

She looked up. "_Ausztria_, I don't really feel…"

"It's alright." He sat beside her, resting his arm over her shoulder. "We all did our best."

"I really didn't know…"

"Go on."

"I really didn't know"—she stared through his glasses—"how much Prussia means to me."

Not far off, a rock tumbled down its holdings and landed thirty feet below. "It hits us hard when it happens," he answered neutrally.

"He was a _segg_… but an alright _segg_."

"_Ja_."

"Austria?"

"Hm?"

"You miss him, too, right?"

"Yes, I do." _I really miss his antics._

"Then that defines how much of an impact he made on us."

"I agree."

As Hungary drifted to sleep, Austria waltzed into the storm and sighed. _Prussia, you_ idióta_, I have much to thank you_.

* * *

><p>"Well?"<p>

The super weapon was nearing completion. "We just need to calibrate the electronics and align the mirrors in the proper angles."

"What about the source of the energy?"

"Already taken care of."

_Why am I not surprised?_ "I guess I do owe your scientists some credit."

France took no offense. "It was _our _brainchild, _Britagne_. And we have America to thank for the initiative of the whole project."

"I guess you're right."

The whole thing had gone so fast that it was making the deadline two years early. _The main setback of General Winter is that none of his goons are smart enough to enter the world of espionage_. Britain smiled at that thought. _He's the only commanding officer with a brain. Even if the other nations succumbed to his power, they wouldn't even bend to his will._

Not that they would, anyway. America stepped into the room, an aura of frustration lingering about. By the sour look on his face, everyone knew what had happened before the media got a whiff.

"Alaska's gone."

"America, it's a loss that we all feel."

_Yeah, right_. "Fucking Snowball just ate up my fucking cavalry regiments." America collapsed into a swivel chair slammed his fist hard against the table. "He is going to pay for what he did!"

_Not good_, Britain thought. _What was it that he liked? Fast food sandwiches?_ "How about a burger?"

Judging by the look he tossed him, he wasn't in the mood for his favorite meal. Loosing Alaska was hard on him. _Bloody git needs to cool off_. He tossed in his next card. "France is almost done with the super weapon."

America lit up at the news. "How much progress?"

"Estimate of about fifteen percent, _Amerique_. There is still a major calibration process that needs to be conducted before we can—"

"I want the ray gun aimed at Moscow!"

"Moscow is already in ruins! Do you still want to reduce a good city to a farmer's paradise?"

"General Winter started his campaign from Russia's place. Logically speaking, he has his base there. If we blast the base, we blast him hard enough that he'll be holding onto his crotch for the next ten years!"

"Ease yourself, America! By God, at least cool off, damn it," Britain snapped.

America seethed at the older country. France looked on, waiting for them to settle their differences. _He's right. If I don't fess up and suck it, thing's get worse._ "Thanks," he sighed. "for knocking some more sense into me."

"Just don't let your emotions get the better of you, America. This is war, remember? You've had better performances when you were hunting down Osama."

"Don't bring it up!"

"Very well, then."

France butted in. "Well, then, shall we? After all, we have to find out if it works."

"Well, we can't aim it anywhere in Russia, considering that the whole place is a white mass all year round."

"Not entirely." This time, it was America who made the corrections. _Impressive_, both nations remarked. The youngest of the three looked at the maps on the wall. Then a light bulb went on. With a grin reaching all the way to his ears, he grabbed a pen and drew a red circle around Alaska.

"Fine choice, _mon neveu_."

Britain turned to his friend-slash-enemy. "France, are the satellites in place?"

"_Oui_. The International Space Station has already installed the mirrors just in case their shuttle would participate."

"No problems with our energy sources?"

"_Aucun_, _Britagne_."

"And alignment?"

"_Superbe_."

"So all we need now are a few more glass panels and we're set," America declared.

"Do I have to repeat myself? The device still needs a major calibration before we can continue with the mirrors!"

"Whatever…"


End file.
